An explanation: "Remember where you came from. Remember who you are"

I have always been an artist in one form or another, and it bleeds into activities that might not generally be considered art. When I ignore it, it comes out anyway. If I suppress it, I am less in balance. In terms of visual art, I have had a strong connection to ceramics since I was an adolescent, going through periods of creative intensity that last years--which have made me appreciate that creative expression is an essential aspect of health! Also, I come from a family of professional musicians, so sometimes I think working sensitively with my hands is in my blood. 
 
Over time, creating these pieces has become a spiritual practice, and the pots themselves teach me a lot as I spend time with them. At first this felt, as you can imagine, generally meditative. The creation process involves a number of steps and I allowed myself to disregard time and fully immerse myself in each one until I was satisfied. I had the shapes in my head: refined, beautiful, harmonious shapes. They even had to feel a certain way in my hands. I chose to combine this very meticulous process with unpredictable, low-fire methods in which the surface patterns would be out of my control and the resulting work would be fragile and might even be destroyed in the firing process! Fortunately, that rarely happened. I enjoyed that the resulting work was nonfunctional, or you could say, not utilitarian. Beauty and harmony are enough to aspire to and worth bringing into the world. I also enjoyed that the pieces were fragile. I think it's interesting to see our many and varied attempts at holding on. 

...This is all deep and interesting, but over the years, as I continue on my never-ending transformation, I have started to feel the pots in a different way. When they are trimmed right and feel "done," this goes beyond feeling the weight balanced--they feel like they are plugged in. When I look at the surfaces, I am informed by what I see. Perhaps this is deeper contemplation (the more you look, the more you see), but it seems like something beyond that--at least beyond what is conveyed by referring to a single sense, modality, dimension, or really, description. At this point, I am very inspired to share these pieces. I intend them to be sources of beauty, grace, connection, and comfort to whoever finds them. 

I have also become inspired, by both dreams and dreamy awake experiences, to make functional work again, in the form of teaware. I am a tea novice (not very experienced appreciator), but I love the multisensory nature of tea ceremonies; to me this is the right use of attention in a world that needs as much re-learning and practice with human faculties as it can get. Tea gatherings can be opportunities for connection that are so touching and wholesome, or of course, elegant, meticulous, and sacred. Enjoying tea quietly and presently, alone, is also so beautiful and valuable. I am truly honored when people use my work in these ways.

I am so grateful to be a "space holder" for both the creation process and the finished work... and also, a "door opener" for people to have new kinds of experiences. It is quite a gift to have these ways to be reminded of my essential nature as a soul in a body, a resident, here and now, of this space.


More about the techniques

This pottery is made using low-temperature firing techniques: either horsehair or barrel fire (also known as pit fire). Both of these processes have interesting histories--horsehair has its roots in the Native American southwest, and pit firing is the oldest way to fire pottery. I find these styles appealing because of their simplicity. The work is not glazed; instead, it is burnished (rubbed with a smooth stone), which produces the glassy surface.
 
I throw these pieces on the wheel, trim them carefully, and burnish them with a smooth stone before firing them to a low temperature in an electric kiln. Then, for the horsehair technique, the pieces are heated up again to an even lower temperature, taken out of the kiln while hot, and hair, feathers, or other substances are applied. You must work quickly, although it's not really work! In barrel firing, the pieces are packed into a metal barrel with combustibles and oxides, and all are set on fire. In either case, once everything has cooled down, the pieces are washed and waxed. Both techniques produce one-of-a-kind, atmospheric surfaces with serendipitous effects.